


Enter Prince Charming

by changingapart



Series: Fault [3]
Category: Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 18:22:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29580201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/changingapart/pseuds/changingapart
Summary: Title:Enter Prince CharmingAuthor:SulkygeekRating:R just to be safe for some sexual referencesLength:14,000 [a+b]Spoilers:Through Sectionals, includes some spoilers I read for the upcoming season, but nothing too in-depth.Summary:Follow-up to ‘Fault’ and ‘Woke Up New’ This is more of a Rachel POV. I know it's too long, but blame my one and half year old daughter, the insomniac.
Series: Fault [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2179926
Kudos: 2
Collections: slkgk





	Enter Prince Charming

  
\--

Rachel’s attraction to Quinn happened slowly, over time. One day, Quinn was her rival for Finn’s affections and another day, she was a friend. Quinn as a friend was not so different from Quinn as a rival. Quinn softened towards her, but the blonde could still be unaccountably bitchy, which was okay with Rachel because she’d seen the blonde be bitchy to everyone, even people she professed to like or even love. Still, they were friends, and though they sniped at each other regularly, a lot of the malice was gone.

When Quinn was so nonchalant and supportive after Rachel’s revelation about a secret girlfriend, Rachel’s opinion toward Quinn changed for the better. She thought Quinn would be revolted, would start treating her worse or something. But instead, Quinn was one of the few gleeks who didn’t treat her any differently once they knew. Life just went on, and Rachel appreciated it.

But she also appreciated that the gleeks could keep a secret, even if they didn’t like her much. It felt like a huge burden had been lifted, because she’d kept it a secret from everyone, even her dads who would have been understanding and sweet, but would have gone into proud gay dads mode, and she didn’t want that. She didn’t want attention, she wanted understanding and _quiet_ acceptance. And she didn’t want to be treated nicer if that was the only reason.

When Rachel was around Quinn, she felt most like herself, because although everyone was nice and supportive when she admitted she was dating a girl, they _changed_. They were nicer and she should have been glad, but she didn’t want people to be nice just because she was dating a girl. Even _Santana_ was nicer, apparently because they were both in the same gay dinghy. But Quinn treated her the same. Quinn was never particularly nice to her, so Rachel found that consistency to be reassuring. It was honest, and Rachel appreciated honesty.

Rachel really didn’t start being attracted to Quinn until after they started dating. There was a huge difference between being attracted to someone and simply finding them attractive and she never looked at Quinn in that way until she realized that Quinn was confused, too. So they started dating and she realized there was so much more to Quinn than just bitchy former Cheerio-- she was smart, insightful, sarcastic and funny; Rachel liked that. Even though Quinn had a huge ego, she also had such fragile self-esteem. She was so much more complex than Rachel had ever thought, so much more than Rachel had ever given her credit for and it kept her…interested.

It wasn’t this huge _wow_ , it wasn’t like being hit in the head, she didn’t hear any bells or anything like that. It was more like…when she reread her favorite book, _Peter Pan, or the Boy Who Wouldn’t Grow Up_ (her favorite because she was motherless, too) for the countless time and discovered something new, or rediscovered something she’d forgotten. Quinn would say or do something and it was like Rachel could see Quinn for the first time. And sometimes she was dazzled and enthralled by that. No matter how mean or bitchy Quinn was to her, once Rachel had discovered there was more to Quinn than that, Rachel kept going back for more. But whatever it was between them, it brewed slowly.

On the other hand, Rachel still remembered the first sting of flustered attraction when she started to secretly date Cindy Wallace. It’d been so exciting. All that build up, all that tension and mutual attraction. The onset of the infatuation was sudden, and completely consuming.

Cindy had been the one to approach her. Rachel had been minding her own business picking up assigned reading books at Borders when she decided to look for new books to read. She was skimming through a book whilst listening to her iPod and sitting on the floor in a position her fathers deemed “the most awkward position ever,” but she thought was comfortable. (This position came about after years of inadvertently flashing people while in skirts. She was pulled aside by a kindly teacher in second grade who took pity on her motherlessness to tell her to wear a pair of shorts under her skirt or sit with her legs together or else everyone would see her underpants.) Her fathers were detail-oriented, but that particular detail escaped their attention.

She felt a tap on her foot. It was Cindy hovering above her.

She apologized, assuming she was blocking an area on the shelf Cindy needed. She scrambled up and _swore_ she saw Cindy look up her skirt. Cindy sat down, which totally confused Rachel. She looked down at Cindy quizzically.

“Rachel, right?” Cindy asked, motioning for Rachel to sit down.

Rachel looked at her warily, but sat. “Yes.”

“Cindy.”

“I know.”

And then Cindy was talking, blushing and leaning in close, rambling on about one of Rachel’s MySpace videos and commenting on how Rachel didn’t change the gender pronouns in the song. Rachel had been instantly suspicious. She loved “Into My Arms”, so she sang a cover and she always felt it was a little disingenuous and kind of a cop-out to change the gender pronouns in songs if one was covering a song by an opposite-gendered singer. But she smelled a set-up and didn’t like it. She was already dealing with the fact she was noticing things about girls that she didn’t used to, and it made her paranoid to think someone had caught onto her.

“No, I feel it diminishes the integrity of the song.” She stood. “I should go,” she said politely.

“I liked it,” Cindy called out after her, her voice soft.

Cindy approached her a few more times, and Rachel could not understand it. Cindy always approached her when they were alone, but she was also kind of… _persistent_ and it was weird. Rachel was paranoid and she wondered if she now had “Questioning my Sexuality” emblazoned on her forehead, because Cindy said a lot of very _pointed_ comments.

It’s not that Rachel was embarrassed or ashamed to question her sexuality-- she thought it was normal. It was just that it was deeply _personal_ and she was trying to figure it out for herself. Most people already assumed she was gay anyway because of her fathers. That didn’t bother her, but she needed people just to stay out her face while she figured things for herself.

Cindy’s persistence started to wear Rachel out, and she finally snapped. She really couldn’t even remember what she said-- probably some variation of “what do you _want_?” She’d been baffled to see a look of genuinely wounded surprise cross Cindy’s features, which prompted Rachel to issue an immediate apology.

That was when Rachel suspected Cindy was doing to her what she herself was trying to do with the other girls in the school-- feel her out for any _hint_ of gayness. So Cindy continued to seek out her, Rachel continued to respond and then soon, Cindy asked her out and she said yes.

“Why did you talk to me?” Rachel asked Cindy one day, when they’d been dating a while.

Cindy was not questioning her sexuality-- she was deeply gay. But there was a dearth of openly gay girls in Lima, and Cindy’s family was dismayingly homophobic. She wasn’t Cindy’s first, but they’d learned from each other. And one thing Rachel learned was that she may not have been fully gay, but she wasn’t fully straight either. It wasn’t a matter of falling in love someone who happened to be a girl. She wasn’t in love with Cindy, but she still enjoyed most of the things they did together-- which was a pretty big indicator of GAY.

Cindy blushed. “I thought you were pretty, I always have. I watched your MySpace videos. Then I saw the one you did of ‘Into My Arms’ and when you didn’t change the pronouns, I thought maybe you and I had a lot in common.”

Rachel nodded. “Oh.”

“And I thought if I was wrong, you weren’t the kind of person who’d rat me out.”

Rachel beamed at her. “ _Oh._.”

(Even when she got older and got compliments, exuberantly positive superlative reviews that remained one of the most gratifying endorsements of her character and who she was as a person)

The relationship got really intense, really fast. Not so much in terms of feelings, at least, not for Rachel. But it did get really intense in terms of what they did together. It moved faster than she wanted. Not that she was unwilling, just that it moved faster than she was ready for.

Rachel didn’t feel forced, it was just things happened even when she didn’t want it to, and frequently without her permission. She never said “stop” or “no,” but she really didn’t feel like she had that option, either. Cindy was a little older, a little more experienced and so Rachel just let Cindy do what she wanted. She thought about saying something sometimes, like, “I don’t want to do this” or “not yet,” or whatever, but she kind of wanted it at the same time, too, and she didn’t want to screw things up, because she didn’t see any other women lining up to want to be with her. She didn’t want to lose a chance with Cindy over something like sex because a part of her felt obliged to do it, even when she didn’t want it, even when what Cindy did to her actually _hurt_ and she wanted to plead with Cindy to stop. She just couldn’t say anything. But Cindy was nice a lot of the other times, so Rachel thought it was a small price to pay.

The relationship didn’t work out, and despite the fact she wasn’t in love, it’d still been crushing.

As nice and sweet as Cindy could be, it was also clear Cindy was resentful and angry about being gay. Rachel wasn’t sure what she was yet, but she didn’t want to be resentful and angry about it. Cindy took a lot of her anger out on Rachel, and Rachel tried to be understanding, because she knew Cindy’s life was a lot harder than hers. She had the most supportive parents on the planet. Cindy’s parents were assholes.

But Cindy could be so _mean_ to her, and people were mean enough to her that she really couldn’t stand having someone who claimed to love her, be mean to her, too. Cindy was mean in ways that were both small and big, but always cutting. For every sweet remark, there was a demeaning, dismissive one, too. It felt awful, but Rachel wasn’t all that surprised, either.

After all, she didn’t have many friends. Noah and Finn were her two closest friends, and she became pretty friendly with Tina as time went on. But she didn’t delude herself into believing people liked her. Glee only tolerated her for her talent, even if they were bonded through grudging solidarity. So it didn’t seem all that surprising Cindy didn’t seem to particularly value her either. She accepted it, reveled in the sweet moments with Cindy, and went about her life.

And then one day, it was over.

Cindy came by the house and sat down on the bed, arms wrapped around herself. “I love you, but I’m lying to my parents and to my friends to date you. I love you, but I love my life more and it’s getting harder to cover this up. It’s too hard to keep doing this. This isn’t what I want, but I can’t do it anymore.”

Rachel nodded slightly. “Okay.”

It was over-- at least in an official capacity. Cindy wanted to stay friends, and they did.

But Cindy also kept doing things like pulling her into the janitor’s closet after school to make out. Or Cindy would come over to hang out for a while, and then inevitably, start fucking her and Rachel didn’t want to, but she let Cindy do it anyway. Rachel lost another sliver of self-respect and she’d already lost an immense amount of self-respect for being unable to speak up for herself while they were dating. After a while, she couldn’t look in the mirror without wanting to spit at her own reflection. It got so hard to like herself.

But Cindy was the first person who really seemed to listen to Rachel, who didn’t seem to just tune her out. And because Cindy was the first girl Rachel was ever with, and helped Rachel figure certain things out, Rachel was unable to resent her. Even after they broke up, Rachel felt the need to be loyal to Cindy. If Cindy hadn’t yelled at her in the parking lot within earshot of Quinn, Rachel would have taken their secret to her grave. She loved Cindy as a friend, and she felt loyal to her despite the fact she felt like Cindy had never really loved her at all. She wasn’t going to lie to herself-- she hadn’t been in love with Cindy, but the break-up upset her. It took a while to get over it. In fact, she still wasn’t over it, when she met someone else.

In truth, she’d met him before she officially met Cindy. He’d been there in the background since New Directions and Vocal Adrenaline went up against each other in their sophomore year. They’d hit it off, and there was a mutual admiration society between them along with a little flirtation. But then she and Noah gave it another go, and after that, there was Cindy. But once things with Cindy were over, the talented but cocky and slightly dorky boy diva from Vocal Adrenaline seemed _perfect_.  
  
He was supposed to be a rebound relationship, but it didn’t work out that way.

She fell in love and fell _hard_. She fell desperately, helplessly, painfully in love. For a while, he was the most important person in her life-- he even became more important than her parents. The way he saw her became the most important thing in the world.

The relationship completely wrecked her. It wasn’t that he treated her terribly-- he was actually pretty nice to her most of the time. Unlike Cindy, he never made any overtly disparaging comments about her. He wasn’t a bad guy. He was actually a really good person, but the relationship had still wrecked her.

He always complimented her on her voice, and on the rare occasion she was off key, he told her so. It meant a lot to her because he wasn’t just saying what she wanted to hear, and so she valued his opinion. He was so encouraging, and had so much faith in her. It felt so good to have someone so talented have that kind of faith in her, especially because he was really arrogant and tended not to recognize other people’s talents if they were less than his own-- and it was his opinion that very few people had talent that was equal or greater than his.

He did the usual relationship things--really listened to her, helped her with homework, wrote her love letters, bought her ‘just because’ gifts, called every day, which she normally would have found annoying and over-bearing, but she adored his attention. Anytime they passed a flower stand or shop, he’d buy her at least a single stem rose. He made mix CDs constantly-- songs he knew she liked, songs he _thought_ she’d like, songs which were special to them, and songs that simply reminded him of her. He asked for her opinion on things because he said he valued her input. He told her she was beautiful, and with him, she _felt_ beautiful. Being with him could feel so good, and he could be pretty good to her-- at least he wasn’t insulting her all the time. But their relationship was doomed to failure, despite her frantic and pathetic attempts to avoid its inevitable end. It took a while for her to realize it but he was bad for her.

He cheated on her all the time, and he was unabashed and unashamed about it. He acted like he was an upstanding guy because he confessed his infidelities. He’d apologize and promise not to do it again, but she stopped believing him though she never stopped hoping he’d stop. He had a wandering eye, so even when they were together, she knew he was looking at other girls. He’d look at some girl and make a comment like “her breasts are nicer than yours, but your legs are better.” In a show of how pathetic she really became, she offered to have an open relationship. But he _wanted_ to be exclusive, and he pled for another chance, and she gave it to him.

She didn’t understand it because she let him have her whenever he wanted, even when she didn’t want to, so she didn’t understand why he would look somewhere else for something she would do for him even when she didn’t want to. It was just like with Cindy. Sometimes, they’d just be lying around, and then his weight was on her and she’d panic for a moment, until she told herself to stop being such a baby, because he was her _boyfriend_. There were so many times when she didn’t want to, but she didn’t say no. Even when he was too rough or did something she wasn’t expecting, or jus treated her like she was a sex doll, she didn’t protest. She felt more of her self-respect slip away, but she didn’t even care.

The drinking was another issue. It wasn’t so much that he was an alcoholic-- he only drank on the weekends, as far as she could see. It was the fact that he could get mean when he drank and he drove while intoxicated. Although he was never off-his-face drunk when he drove, he was definitely buzzed, and she couldn’t follow that inner voice telling her to stop being an idiot. She always got in the car, and she’d try to reason with him. “I’m scared, pull over and let me drive” she’d whine, but pretending it was a joke, even though she was scared. She’d said that the first time she rode in a car with him while he was buzzed, but he laughed and mocked her. So all the other times after that she pretended like she was joking when she said she was scared, like she was making fun of herself, but really, she hoped he’d just pull over and let her drive. Eventually, she just stopped saying anything and just hoped they’d make it home.

She was afraid of him a lot. He had some kind of undiagnosed mental health issue--because when he was in a good, happy mood, they had the best time, but when he was depressed, angry or just plain moody (and that was a lot), she was terrified of him. She was never sure if some innocent joke would make him laugh or cause him to snap at her in a rage. It got to the point that all he had to do was to look at her a certain way and she would give into whatever he wanted. She shut up and tried to stay out of his way. It was also why she never said no or tried to push him away when he pulled off her skirt without warning. Her fear of him kept her in line and it never got physical, because it never had to-- she cowed to whatever he wanted. Except once.

It was the one time when he got so drunk that she was scared. So she obeyed that small voice in her head, and called her dads. They’d always told her she could call them for a sober ride home, consequence free. It was the only time she needed it. They were at his house anyway, and Rachel didn’t think he’d mind because he wouldn’t have to drive her home. Her dad came to pick her up, and he didn’t seem all that angry, especially because she hadn’t been drinking.

“J,” Rachel said. “I’m going to go home with my dad. So you don’t have to drive me home.”

She left, but he followed her. She thought maybe he was just walking her out. She got in her dad’s car and rolled down her window to tell him she’d call him tomorrow, and he looked so angry, she drew back. He reached into the car and pulled her out of the car through the window, screaming at her. It was mortifying to be pulled out of the car and land on her knees on asphalt.

Her dad was horrified and _furious_. It was even more awful because she really thought Dad would yell at her on the ride home-- Dad was the yeller and Daddy was the softie. But he didn’t yell. He drove with his hands clenched around the steering wheel and the whole time he drove, he kept asking in this really soft voice if that was the first time something like that had ever happened. He just looked so worried that she wished he would just yell at her, because she’d feel better if he did. He was so _nice_ made her feel worse.

When they got home, her fathers sat her down. She was forbidden from seeing him again. But she defied her fathers and continued dating him in secret, feeling guilty the whole time for betraying her fathers’ trust, but consumed by her desire to just date her boyfriend.

Until he dumped her. He found someone new, someone better. Someone he preferred to her.

It was shattering. She couldn’t show it-- after all, her fathers thought she was already broken up with him, and she wasn’t going to give the people at school the satisfaction of seeing her defeated and depressed. But it was the kind of break-up where she felt really raw, like she had no skin and everything just _hurt_ a little more. Suddenly, other people’s insults-- people who didn’t even _matter_ to her, actually started to hurt. Every harsh word, exasperated sigh, or eye roll just stung, and she knew she would feel better if only he would take her back. And she only barely resisted the urge to plead with him to take her back.

She blanked out on life. She was there, of course, but not present. She showed up to school, studied, went to Glee, did her homework, participated in her other extra-curricular activities, ate, showered, made MySpace videos-- but she kind of blanked out while doing them. She barely remembered anything about the couple months after he broke up with her-- just that she walked around, put a smile on her face, held her head up high but felt raw and exposed the whole time. The best part of her day was being able to go up to her room and be alone after dinner. The worst part of her day was waking up and realizing she had to go through the process all over again.

But it got easier, just as she knew it would, because even as she was going through with it, she knew that her feelings were incredibly cliché and not even remotely special.

She was starting to feel like herself again, but she was still a little blanked out, like she was viewing her life from the edges. Everything felt blunted.

And that’s when she started dating Quinn.

She knew it was wrong to start dating someone new, but she thought it would be okay, that she’d just be an experiment for Quinn and Quinn would maybe realize that she was straight after all, and they could both go on with their lives, no harm no foul.

It didn’t go like that though.  
\--

It’s not that Rachel regretted asking Quinn out that day when Quinn made fun of Rachel for thinking a girl on MySpace was appealing. (Okay, that Daisy chick really did look like a cartoon, but a hot one, like Jessica Rabbit or the Little Mermaid.) It was more that she felt like she was getting herself into something over which she had no control. The words just sort of rolled off her tongue before she was ready to say them.

She found herself without a road map, and knew she’d jumped into it too soon. She felt so raw, and Quinn could be so mean to her. Insults that Quinn used to hurl at her, like Man Hands used to just roll off, no big deal. But then it started to sting. It wasn’t Quinn’s fault, it was just kind of where Rachel was at the time. She just didn’t have the emotional fortitude anymore to take it, but she couldn’t say anything to Quinn about it. Her heart felt too close to the lining of her coat and so with Quinn, she kept trying to shove it further away.

As mean as Quinn could be, Rachel knew what she was doing to Quinn was cruel and possibly worse. She felt terrible about herself, because she knew, she could _see_ Quinn wasn’t happy, even if the blonde wasn’t saying anything about it. She could _see_ how confused and afraid Quinn was-- she’d seen those very emotions reflected in her mirror. But still, she couldn’t bring herself to bring Quinn the solace the blonde was obviously seeking out in her.

It wasn’t that she was mean to Quinn, she just kind of ignored her, even though they were dating and Rachel could _see_ that it hurt, that she’d disappointed Quinn. Quinn just seemed so lost sometimes, and Rachel knew Quinn was expecting her to take the lead, but Rachel just couldn’t. She was lost, too. They were floundering, and all the camaraderie and the charm was fading. It felt awful, but Rachel couldn’t stop herself from just sitting there and letting it happen.

She knew if she just asked Quinn _anything_ to indicate she cared about how Quinn felt, the blonde would feel better. And maybe if Quinn felt better, then Quinn would be a little nicer. But Rachel just couldn’t bring herself to do it. She cared, of course. She wasn’t so grossly insensitive or cruel that she didn’t care about how Quinn felt. It was just that she’d given up so much of her self-respect, pushed aside her own feelings, that she was disgusted with herself and she wanted to stop. So she didn’t do the sweet things she did for her exes, refused to be attentive even when she was perceptive, refused to be _good_ to Quinn. But that didn’t make her less disgusted with herself. She wasn’t proud of herself that she finally stopped debasing herself for someone else. She just got more disgusted with herself because she knew the way she treated Quinn was _wrong_ that she was punishing Quinn for something the blonde didn’t even do.

But she was just so _blank_. It touched her when Quinn seemed insecure or lost, but she couldn’t reach out. She couldn’t bring herself to actually show Quinn she cared.  
\--  
Their first date had been _really_ nice. It was a little awkward-- there was all this added anticipation and expectation. But it was still nice. Rachel wasn’t exactly sure how to proceed when she arrived at Quinn’s house, but she thought she’d play it by ear.

They hung out for a while at Quinn’s. They sat on the couch and watched a movie, just like they had on numerous other occasions. Except there was this _weight_ between them. They sat close, but not touching. Rachel knew Quinn expected her to make a move, but Quinn seemed so skittish and nervous, that Rachel just sat with her hands in her lap. When the movie ended, Rachel stood up, stretched and held her hand out to Quinn, smiling.

“Are you hungry?” Rachel asked. “There’s that new Mexican restaurant that opened up on Walnut. I’m curious about it.”

Quinn smiled back and reached for Rachel’s hand. “That sounds good.”

Rachel let go of Quinn’s hand and then rethought it. She reached for Quinn’s hand again and she held the blonde’s hand until they got to her car.

New restaurants in Lima tended to go one of two ways. Either curiosity packed the restaurant, or wariness caused people to wait until someone they knew gave it a vote of confidence. Las Dunas was suffering from the latter, which Rachel thought was a shame--the food was good. But it also meant the restaurant was nearly empty for the entire time they were there, and that was nice.

They talked, and at first, it was a little hesitant and awkward, but by the time they were finished with their meal, they were talking the way they did. They lingered for a while, but it was weird being the only patrons left in the restaurant. The bill was set down and they each reached for it.

“I’ll get it,” Quinn said.

“No,” Rachel said firmly. “Let me.”

“I’ll pay half.”

Rachel smiled. “Maybe next time,” she said, gently tugging the bill away from Quinn.

“Thanks,” Quinn said softly.

They settled the bill and lingered for a little longer but eventually left. Quinn didn’t want to go home quite yet, but there was really nowhere else they wanted to go.

“There’s Matt’s party,” Rachel suggested.

Quinn paused. “You want to go to Matt’s?”

“I don’t have a plan for now,” Rachel apologized “I thought you’d want me to take you home.”

“Maybe we can just drive around for a while,” Quinn said softly. “I mean, if you don’t mind.”

Rachel smiled at her. “I don’t.”

They drove around for a while, chatting. They drove through the town multiple times, passing familiar landmarks. And soon, it was time for Quinn to go home.

Rachel dropped her off. “Goodnight,” Rachel said softly.

“Goodnight.”

They stared at one another for a long moment-- too long, because it felt awkward. Rachel thought Quinn was waiting for a goodnight kiss, but Rachel wasn’t sure if Quinn really wanted it, or if she was just anticipating it because tradition dictated it. She didn’t want to push Quinn into anything, didn’t want to make Quinn feel obliged to do anything before she was ready, because Rachel had been there so many times before and it felt awful. She knew how it felt to give in, even when you didn’t want to, and how much you just ended up loathing yourself because you couldn’t blame the other person, not when you didn’t say no. And if you let it happen the first time, it was like giving the other person a free pass to it over and over again. If you let it happen once, you could never take it back. Once it happened, people just assumed it was okay, every single time. And it wasn’t okay every single time. She didn’t want to do that to someone else.

So she just leaned forward and hugged Quinn as quickly as humanly possible. She didn’t even give Quinn a chance to return the hug. She just leaned forward, put her arms around Quinn, held her for like, a _millisecond_ and then pulled away, unable to meet Quinn’s eyes.

“I had a good time,” Rachel said, and she had, even with all the awkwardness. “Call me tomorrow. I mean, only if you want to,” she added.

Quinn gazed at her, looking uncertain. “Okay,” she said with a slight nod. She stayed for an extra beat and then opened the door. “Okay, well. Goodnight,” Quinn said. “Thanks for…everything.”

“Goodnight.”  
\--

Quinn called her the next day, and the blonde came over in the evening. Daddy was out of town in Seattle, and Dad was working, so Rachel had the house to herself. They ate leftovers from the fridge for dinner and then lounged around in Rachel’s room.

Rachel didn’t kiss Quinn that night and Quinn didn’t try to initiate anything either.  
\--

It took a few more dates, a few more times hanging out together for Rachel to work up the nerve. All she could remember were the times when all she wanted to do was hang out but it would turn into a full-on make-out session when she didn’t want to kiss, and then it would turn into sex that she really didn’t want.

She didn’t want to do that to Quinn. She knew if she kissed Quinn, the blonde wouldn’t say no, that the blonde wouldn’t refuse. But Rachel didn’t think Quinn would feel comfortable saying she wasn’t ready, because the whole reason they were dating was because Quinn was curious and admitting curiosity meant being curious about things like kissing and sex. But she didn’t want Quinn to think she was only in it for the physical, and she didn’t want Quinn to feel obliged to do _anything_. She wanted to be positive Quinn was okay with it and she couldn’t bring herself to _ask_ , because she thought that would inevitably lead into explaining and she didn’t want to explain. But she had no idea how to take the lead, and it was clear Quinn was expecting her to, and that was fair because Rachel was the one who’d actually dated a girl before.

Their first kiss happened three weeks after their first date. All the time in between, they were just hanging out but there was so much tension and anticipation between them. It was just… Rachel was so rattled, so unsure, so shaken. She was still so off balance, it was like she was submerged underwater and trying to claw her way up to the surface, except she was so disoriented she wasn’t sure if she was floating up or sinking down, so she didn’t know which way to go.

The first kiss was accidental. They were lounging around on the bed in Quinn’s room and Rachel decided it was time for her to go home, so she stood up and said goodbye. Quinn stood up as well, and Quinn hugged her. By this time, they were able to go back to hugging each other like they normally did, holding on for a couple of seconds before letting go-- unlike that first date. Rachel stood on her tiptoes to kiss Quinn’s cheek, but Quinn turned her head to ask a question and Rachel’s lips grazed Quinn’s. It was just a peck-- barely that, just a soft brush.

Quinn’s eyes were huge-- round and wide.

Rachel pulled away roughly and took a few steps back, misinterpreting Quinn’s initial shock for horror. “Sorry,” she apologized. “I…I didn’t mean to…I was trying to kiss your cheek, not--”

Quinn hesitantly stepped forward, narrowing the space between them. “It’s okay,” she said softly.

And then Rachel saw it-- something in Quinn’s eyes. It was just for a moment, and she really couldn’t describe it, even if she had to. But it was this _look_ , and there was this _expression_. And then Rachel just knew that it really was okay. She felt bolder, so she moved in closer, palmed Quinn’s cheek, stood up on tip-toes, and kissed her. Rachel felt Quinn’s hands in her hair and they kissed until Rachel was breathless so she had to pull away.

Quinn looked at her, looking a little stupefied. She was wide-eyed and gasping a little, which made Rachel feel immeasurably vindicated, because damn it, maybe she didn’t _always_ want to make out or _always_ want to have sex, but she was good at those things.

But still, Rachel could not squelch an undeniably crushing wave of self-doubt because she was quick to add, “was that okay? I wasn’t trying to force you into anything.”

Quinn’s cheeks were red. “I thought you lost interest,” she admitted. “I thought you just wanted to stay friends and that’s why you hadn’t tried to kiss me.”

Rachel didn’t want to get into it, but she wanted to be honest. “I was interested,” she blushed. “I just didn’t want to force you into anything before you were ready, and I wasn’t sure.”

Quinn chuckled. “I can’t imagine anyone forcing either of us into anything we didn’t want to do,” she said dryly. “And besides. I could take you.”

Rachel smiled crookedly and wondered, just briefly, if she could get away from Quinn if she really had to. “Yeah, maybe.”

Quinn gazed at her for a moment, and then Quinn kissed her again.  
\--

All they did was kiss. And sometimes, it was a little more frenzied, sometimes it was a little more leisurely. Sometimes, they kissed because they just couldn’t resist, and other times they kissed because they had nothing better to do. They always kept their clothes and while Rachel could feel things building up between them, she didn’t feel the pressure of the demand for sex, either. Sometimes, she wanted it, but she wasn’t sure if Quinn did. And other times, she didn’t want to, and she was glad Quinn wasn’t pushing the issue.

Every time they made out and it _didn’t_ lead to sex, Rachel felt herself falling for Quinn a little more. There were times in her life when Rachel wondered if all she really was to people was a breathing sex doll, but it wasn’t like that with Quinn. They had a pace, and it felt comfortable and even though she wasn’t putting out, Quinn was still there. Maybe Quinn could be mean to her, but at least Rachel started to feel like she had more to offer a person, that there was something likable about her that went beyond just sex.

‘This is good,’ Rachel thought after a particularly heated kiss with Quinn in which the blonde’s flushed face was warm to the touch and she was very obviously turned on, but didn’t push for something more. For just a brief moment, she felt some semblance of control. Until that is, Quinn kissed her again and Rachel knew that if this kept on, she would fall desperately, hopelessly, helplessly in love again. And the thought of falling in love again, losing that control, being unable to say no, being unable to speak up for herself, it was just too scary.

\--  
She kept screwing up. She didn’t screw up deliberately, but Rachel knew she screwed up. A lot.

Like when Cindy came home from Spring Break during her first year at Berkeley. She should have known how that would make Quinn feel, but she didn’t even consider it. It was just that she’d gotten used to Friday being their regular night together, and then Quinn wanted to spend that previous Friday with Santana and Brittany.

Quinn made it clear to Rachel that she wasn’t supposed to assume Quinn was a regular on Rachel’s calendar. And Rachel had been simultaneously embarrassed and horrified because she realized she was probably more into Quinn than Quinn was into her, and had actually let on about it. And she was horrified with herself for just assuming Quinn was hers for the night, which was a feeling she hated being subject to herself. And she’d been kind of hurt by how mean Quinn had been about wanting to spend time with Santana and Brittany, as though spending time with her were so awful, Quinn needed to specifically let her know that the blonde needed time _away_ from _her_ not just the blonde wanted some time with her friends. When she agreed to pick up Cindy, she was trying to just give Quinn space and also give herself some time to think, but of course, she screwed up that, too, because Quinn just got even angrier with her.

Cindy was a friend, and Rachel thought she owed it to Cindy to keep her commitment and she couldn’t back out by the time Quinn made her displeasure known. When Rachel picked Cindy up, Cindy greeted her happily with a huge hug. But when Cindy went to kiss her, Rachel turned her head to give Cindy her cheek. Cindy kissed her cheek and didn’t comment and everything seemed okay, but Rachel couldn’t help but think it was a bad idea.

“You look good,” Cindy commented as Rachel drove.  
\--

When Cindy commented on how tense she was, and then suggested they hit up the old karaoke bar they used to go to, the one they could sneak into because no one carded them as long as they didn’t order any alcoholic drinks, Rachel didn’t want to do it, but she answered, “Um, okay.”  
\--

Each time they’d gone to the bar together, men always bought them drinks and the bar didn’t seem to care as long as they didn’t buy the drinks themselves. Rachel didn’t drink much-- at most, she drank one or nursed two, and then switched to bottled water. She just liked to sing, even when it was only karaoke. When she and Cindy were dating, Rachel loved that Cindy liked that about her.

But that night, whatever anyone brought her, she drank, even when she didn’t like the taste. She was uncomfortable and she just wanted to relax. Cindy had been all over her all damn night, and while it wasn’t inappropriate, Rachel didn’t want to cross any lines because she’d never been able to say ‘no’ and she thought she owed it to Quinn not to cross any lines. They weren’t exclusive, but Rachel thought she owed it to Quinn anyway. So she kept throwing back drinks to ease her tension and she was already pretty drunk when she remembered she was the one driving that night. “Fuck,” Rachel thought, knowing that Cindy would have to drive now, and she’d pretty much be at the other girl’s mercy.

She’d woken up in Quinn’s room the next day with no memory of how she got there. Quinn seemed angry and suspicious and Rachel couldn’t blame her. She did her best to try to appease her. But it didn’t seem to work because Quinn got even meaner to her after that, and no matter how many times Rachel asked her if she’d said something embarrassing, hurtful or incriminating, Quinn denied it. But it was the way Quinn denied it-- all flat, and angry and Rachel just wished that she knew what she’d done. She wished she could just pull it together, but she felt so lost, she had no idea where to begin. She knew she could present a good face to the world, but underneath it, she had no idea what to do, and she just knew Quinn must have felt so misled, like she’d been conned. Rachel knew Quinn probably thought this would be fun and easy, but instead she was making Quinn miserable and Rachel didn’t know how to stop.

And Rachel wasn’t really sure why what she did was so wrong, because they were only dating. And granted they were dating exclusively, but that was more because there was a dearth of dateable people, not because they only wanted to be with each other. Quinn made that really clear to her on multiple occasions. So Rachel didn’t _get_ why Quinn seemed so angry with her, all the time. But it was obvious she’d hurt Quinn, so she just kept her mouth shut and hoped that Quinn would relent. And she did.

Things were better for a while, until she found Quinn searching through one of her drawers. Quinn was probably just looking for a pen or something, but it’d momentarily stunned her to see Quinn looking through it and then demanding she explain what “all this shit” was. They were mementos of her relationships, and though they’d confused her and made her feel awful about herself, they’d been meaningful to her, too. Quinn became angry about the fact that some of the things she’d given Rachel were stuffed in that drawer, too, and Rachel had to explain that their relationship really didn’t feel all that different. It killed Rachel to admit it out loud because she’d wanted it to be different, and in a lot of important ways, it was. But Quinn could be so mean and disparaging and Rachel found herself losing self-respect for just taking it. She may not have been just some fuck toy for Quinn, but it was pretty clear to Rachel that she was still just a toy.

\--

But Quinn exceeded her expectations. When Rachel told Quinn “the ball’s in your court,” she really thought Quinn would either cut her lose or nothing would change. But it _did_ change, and Quinn softly pleaded for her to not “lump” her in with “them.” And for a while, things were better, and Quinn really did set herself apart.

For a while, things were so so good. Things were _fun_. They hung out, watched movies, practiced for Glee, studied, ate dinner, got coffee-- all the normal couple stuff. And they talked-- really talked, and not just about stuff like favorite colors (Quinn, green. Rachel, surprisingly, not pink, gold or purple, but blue) but how they really felt about stuff.

But even when things get better, things still tend to return to normal, and that was exactly what happened. She tried to make an effort to be better, too, but she couldn’t sustain it, either.

Quinn was mean to her again, and Rachel let her be, and soon it felt like Quinn was far away. She started tuning Quinn out, she stopped wanting to spend so much time with the blonde. She started to check out, mentally, when they were together. She started communicating with her exes a little more-- she’d always been in touch with them, but her contact with them diminished when she started dating Quinn. She started to pick it up again. She told herself she wasn’t doing anything wrong, because she wasn’t cheating and she and Quinn weren’t exclusive anyway. But she knew she came off as blank and indifferent again. She knew this only hurt Quinn more, that it made Quinn be even meaner to her, but by this point, their cycle of hurt was so vicious, Rachel really didn’t care anymore. She was just waiting for it to be over.

Quinn found some text messages on her phone, and at first, Rachel was annoyed Quinn looked through her phone. Rachel wasn’t cheating and she resented the implication that she would. But she felt a twinge of guilt once she saw the text from Cindy that got Quinn so irate, because Cindy had been sending her a lot of dirty text messages and pictures that week, but Rachel just deleted them because she honestly wasn’t interested.  
  
The fight was bad. It wasn’t the worst fight she ever had, but it definitely ranked fairly high up on the list. At first, it was one-sided, and she decided Quinn had a right to be mad, so Rachel resolved herself to just sit there and take it, because maybe she deserved to be yelled at. But Quinn just brought so much into it-- stuff that she didn’t have to bring up, and there were all these accusations being hurled and Rachel just felt herself explode. She knew she was too angry to deal with Quinn-- Rachel didn’t get angry all that much, contrary to popular opinion. She got irritated, frustrated and upset, and sometimes she acted maliciously or vindictively, but genuine anger? She didn’t get angry often enough for people to _really_ understand how horrible she could be to someone when she was angry-- if they did, no one would Slushie her. She knew she’d scared Quinn during their fight, because she’d scared herself.

Just as Quinn brought up awful, hurtful things just because Quinn knew her better now, so her insults and barbs could be a little more pointed, Rachel brought up awful, hurtful things she knew about Quinn, too. And it was so much worse than when they didn’t like each other and just sniped at one another-- because they really hadn’t known each other then. They fought and they _really_ fought, every awful thing they said to one another was intended to hurt one another and because Rachel had been deeply hurt by the things Quinn said, she knew she hurt Quinn, too.

Rachel just assumed that they broke up. The fight was so bad, and she was _so_ harsh with Quinn-- by the end of the fight, Rachel was saying such _ugly_ things and Quinn had fallen silent and was just standing there, staring at her and _bawling_. Rachel just assumed that not only had their foray into dating come to an end, but so had their friendship. Quinn didn’t seem to want to talk to her, and Rachel didn’t blame her, so she didn’t try to talk to the blonde. The blonde didn’t seem to have any desire to be anywhere _near_ her, and again, Rachel didn’t blame her. All this time, she thought she was treated other people better than how people treated her, but she was just as bad.

The text from him came four days after the fight with Quinn, and a part of her groaned because the texts she exchanged with him had been a large part of the fight. She _still_ had him labeled as ‘Fantastic J’ because they both loved _The Fantastic Mr. Fox_. He texted her if she wanted to grab some matzo ball soup at _Leo’s Deli_ , and initially she was going to delete the text and his number (as if that would have helped, considering she had it memorized), but then she thought, ‘screw it,’ and said ‘yes’ because he knew that was comfort food for her.

The whole thing started up again. A couple hours later, she found herself flat on her back, wanting to say no, but being unable to and wondering who the _fuck_ stole her voice. She hated herself even more and her depression over Quinn was even further compounded. He still drove drunk and she stopped caring that she was in the car with him.

They ran into Quinn, Santana and Brittany at Dahlia’s, and Rachel was mortified they knew that he was drunk. And she was mortified that they all knew she’d chosen to go with him rather than seeing a movie with them. But she just loved him _so_ much and for whatever reason, she felt better about his safety as long as she was in the car with him. As he weaved along State Street to go back to his house, she thought about how stupid she’d been, about all the ridiculous choices she’d made for herself when it came to him.

She refused to go into his house with him and she walked home after that. It was only a few miles-- less than what she ran every day. She thought about how she loved him, but how that had morphed into more of a friendship kind of love. How she’d actually fallen in love with _Quinn_ and how awful it felt to leave Quinn behind and walk away with _him_. How that choice felt totally wrong, and not just because he was intoxicated.

She texted Quinn when she got home, and Quinn called her immediately in response. She got an earful, and Rachel knew she completely deserved it.

So she told Quinn the truth-- that she didn’t want them to be mad at each other again, and she really had missed Quinn. They agreed to start again, and it was like a huge burden was lifted.  
\--

  
\--  
It was better the second time around, not perfect, but better.

She made a sincere effort to be better to Quinn, to be nicer and more attentive. She tried to stop using bad relationships, as damaging as they’d been, as cop-outs for not treating Quinn as well as she deserved to be treated. Quinn treated her better than either of her shitty exes, and Lord knew that Quinn was infinitely more respectful. It was just inexcusable to be less sweet to Quinn than she’d been to her crappy exes. And Rachel _really_ tried to stop behaving as though she were indifferent to Quinn, because she wasn’t.

She was still deeply afraid that if she let herself fall too in love, if she started _showing_ it, then she’d get dangerously close to losing her self-respect all over again, and she was only just starting to gain a little bit of it back. But Quinn started being sweeter to her, and things were better between them and it got to a point where she had to make a choice: either she held back and pretended like she didn’t care about Quinn as much as she actually did and lose her self-respect anyway (because Quinn was trying and _she_ didn’t seem to be holding back) or she just threw herself into it and let Quinn knew just how much she cared and feel like at least she was earning the affection Quinn was giving her and stop feeling horrible about herself for not being as good to Quinn and Quinn was to her.  
\--  
Rachel started to remember the things that attracted her to Quinn in the first place. They’d just hang out for no particular reason and watch something random on television. They watched a _lot_ of terrible movies on cable and gave commentary on it more than they actually watched it. But also watched regular TV shows, stuff like _Gossip Girl_ and _True Blood_ , but their special guilty pleasures were those medical emergency shows where the camera followed the doctors into the emergency room and History Channel documentaries because Quinn liked to imitate the narrators.

There were so many nights in which they’d watch a compound fracture be set or blood gush out of a gaping wound and they’d shriek, grab hands and share a guilty laugh because that was actually happening to a real person, it wasn’t _Grey’s Anatomy_ or something. There was one night in particular that Rachel remembered fairly vividly. They were watching some documentary on European History and Quinn got excited and exclaimed how that was around the Defenestration of Prague and launched into this little ramble which left Rachel staring blankly.

“Come on!” Quinn exclaimed. “The Defenestration of Prague!”

Rachel continued to stare. “What?”

“We learned about it last year in Stein’s class!”

Rachel rolled her eyes. “Well, I don’t remember. Was it something pretty small? Relatively speaking in the context of the entire history of Europe?”

“Well, I do remember,” Quinn huffed, ignoring the question entirely. She crossed her arms in front of her chest. She started at the TV for a moment and then turned to look back at Rachel, who was still staring at the blonde. “Don’t look at me like I’m some kind of nerd just because I remembered something we studied last year!”

Rachel bit her lip, amused. She smiled crookedly at Quinn. “On the contrary,” She leaned in and ran her hand through the blonde’s hair. “I thought that was _really_ sexy.”

There were a lot of things she noticed about Quinn again, things she’d already known but somehow deliberately ignored. It really was like stating over, at least for Rachel, because she didn’t feel so lost in this _fog_. She really _saw_ Quinn for who she was behind the bitchy mean girl exterior, behind the put-downs and snarky comments and underneath all the confusion and fragile self-esteem. Quinn was smart and insightful. She was also _really_ funny and God, she was so talented. It wasn’t just about the music, either, she was a good dancer and she great at art. They’d hang out, drinking coffee or something and talking, and then Rachel would look at Quinn’s napkin and realize Quinn had sketched a really good rendering of everything going on around them. Quinn was always ready to just throw them away, but Rachel always grabbed them to keep them because they were _good_.

And yeah, Quinn could be bitchy to her sometimes, but Quinn could also be really sweet. Rachel wasn’t looking for Quinn to change 180 degrees-- Quinn wouldn’t be the same without a few barbs or the occasional tirade and skewering comment. All Rachel was really looking for was that when Quinn said those things to her, it wasn’t out of malice-- and most of the time, it wasn’t. Quinn wasn’t looking to _hurt_ her, she was just a little prickly, and _that_ was something Rachel could deal with. The mean comments specifically designed to dig and burrow inside? Not so much. But Quinn was getting better at that and Rachel thought it was sincere.

\--

The first time she had sex with Quinn was the best first time she’d ever had with anyone. Quinn was the first person who _waited_ until she was ready. Well, that was unfair, because Noah waited, but the whole point of seeing him was sex, so he didn’t count. Quinn _waited_ and she was so patient and when it finally happened, Rachel knew for sure they both wanted it.

It’d been one of her biggest fears that she’d somehow make Quinn feel obliged or forced, the way she’d felt obliged and forced. She’d come to love Quinn so much and she knew she wanted it, but just as Quinn had been patient with her, she wanted to do the same with Quinn. She knew firsthand how it felt if the person who claimed to love you didn’t care if you were ready or not-- and it made you think that person never really loved you at all.

It wasn’t the most perfect night ever or anything, but it was close.

Rachel was nervous after that, because from what she’d experienced, if it happened once, the other person tended to assume it was _always_ going to happen. The first time she had sex with Cindy and Jess, she didn’t even have a chance to say ‘yes,’ it just kind of happened and she experienced a moment of panic because she didn’t know what was going on. It happened first with Cin, and then with J, and she’d come to assume that was just the way it was going to be with everyone. But it wasn’t like that, at least, not with Quinn.  
\--  
They got closer, spent even more time together and yeah, absolutely they had sex a few more times, but each time, they both agreed on it. It was a _real_ relationship and although they hadn’t put a title on it yet, Rachel stopped rationalizing it to herself that they were only dating each other because there was no one else to date-- they didn’t _want_ to date anyone else.

Then there was the night she screwed it all up again. They’d been kissing and it got more heated. Clothes were being unbuttoned, unzipped and it was all okay. But then Quinn started to become a little more aggressive and it _okay_. But she didn’t exactly want it that way either. Then she was aware of was Quinn’s hands on both her arms, shaking her. Quinn’s face was hovering extremely close and Quinn was shouting her name.

Rachel pushed her away. “What are you doing?” she demanded.

Quinn exhaled. “What am _I_ doing? What are _you_ doing?” she asked, trembling. “You were completely out of it.”  
Rachel frowned. “What?”

Quinn grabbed Rachel’s hands and blew on them. “Your hands are freezing. Are you okay?”

Rachel scowled and jerked her hands away. Her hands did feel especially cold. “What are you talking about?” she repeated.

Quinn looked worried. She swallowed hard. “Are you screwing with me?” she asked softly. “Don’t screw with me.”

“Quinn, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Quinn touched Rachel’s forehead. “Are you feeling okay?” she asked. “Did something happen?” she asked hesitantly. “You just…” Quinn grimaced. “It was so _weird_ ,” she said softly.

And it really had been. One moment, they were kissing and it was definitely more heated than usual. Quinn was only half dressed when she unbuttoned Rachel’s blouse and Rachel didn’t seem to mind-- she seemed to like it, in fact. Soon, Rachel’s bra came off and Quinn was pulling Rachel’s skirt down and again, Rachel seemed fine. They’d already had sex a couple times by then, and so Quinn just assumed things were progressing. She slipped her leg between Rachel’s legs and they were kissing and she let her hands kind of…roam and suddenly, Rachel stopped kissing back. But by then Quinn was ready to move downward. She was kissing Rachel’s breasts and her hands were roaming over Rachel’s body when she realized Rachel wasn’t responding or reciprocating, she was just lying there. Her skin was suddenly _so_ cold and she was just staring up at the ceiling, completely expressionless. Quinn asked her a couple times if she was okay, but Rachel didn’t respond. She shook Rachel a couple times, but again, Rachel didn’t respond. It finally took Quinn shaking Rachel fairly hard and shouting her name for Rachel to finally respond, looking at her blankly and demanding what _she_ was doing.

Rachel was crimson with embarrassment as Quinn finished her explanation and she was mortified. She suddenly realized how exposed she was, and felt so raw. She grabbed a blanket off the floor and covered herself with it.

“I’m sorry,” Rachel apologized, wishing she could just crawl off somewhere and die in mortification. “Get dressed and I’ll drive you home.”

She felt so miserable. It was just that sometimes, she had sex when she really didn’t want to, and it wasn’t that she was _really_ forced into it. But she didn’t really want to, and no one asked her if she wanted to, and sometimes, she just found it easier if she just stared up at the ceiling and checked out. But she never really realized just how much she checked out because no one said anything to her. Until now.

Quinn looked scared. “Did I hurt you?”

Rachel shook her head. “No, not at all. I’m sorry. I just…I don’t know what happened,” she lied.

Actually, she did. It was just…it was a lot more aggressive than her previous interactions with Quinn, and it’d sort of taken her aback. She really hadn’t been ready for that. Quinn was rougher than Rachel had been accustomed to, and when Quinn seemed to want to take things further, Rachel really hadn’t wanted to. They’d had sex a few times before, but it wasn’t like they were rabbits or something At some point, she felt a little deflated, like, well, here she was again, and then she felt herself check out. But really, she hadn’t realized how totally she was checked out.

Quinn looked baffled and worried. “Do you… like, a medical condition or something you haven’t told me about?” she asked. “I’m not trying to be a bitch!” she added quickly, seeing the look on Rachel’s face. “It’s just…it was really scary. You were totally out of it.”

“I’m sorry,” Rachel apologized, wishing she could just curl up somewhere. “I ruined everything. Let’s just get dressed and I’ll drive you home. Okay?”

Quinn hesitantly reached out toward her and cupped Rachel’s cheek. “Did _I_ do something wrong?” she asked worriedly. “Because you…looked _scared_ ,” she added quietly. “Of me.”

“Just fucking drop it!” Rachel demanded, exasperated. “Get dressed. I’ll drive you home.”

“But if I did something to--”

“You didn’t,” Rachel snapped. “So shut up and get dressed and I’ll drive you home.”

The moment she said it, Rachel wished she could take it back. Quinn cringed and then Rachel thought Quinn would say something snippy towards her, the way they always sniped at one another. But God, instead, Quinn said this really soft “okay” and put her top back on. And then Rachel got re-dressed and she grabbed her purse and keys and Quinn just followed behind her.

Rachel dropped Quinn off, and she wanted to say something, anything, to make the situation better. But she was so _mortified_ , so they sat for a moment in the car once Rachel put it in park. And she felt Quinn stare at her, but Rachel stared straight ahead and then Quinn said “bye” and Rachel just waited for Quinn to get out and shut the door. Then she drove herself home.

\--

She faked sick the next day to stay home from school and bummed around the house, berating herself for being such a fucking weirdo. God, what was wrong with her? Quinn sent her a couple of texts “are you okay?” and “do you need anything?” but she chose not to respond. Quinn called her a couple times, too, but Rachel chose to allow it to go to voicemail. She skipped Glee that day, too, she just didn’t think she could face Quinn. Her humiliation was just too acute.

But then she tried to think about it from Quinn’s perspective, because if she were in Quinn’s shoes, she’d be freaking out right now. So she thought it wasn’t unreasonable to assume Quinn probably was freaking out. And Quinn hadn’t done anything wrong. It wasn’t Quinn’s fault.

So she went to Quinn’s. Quinn’s grandmother let her in, and they talked pleasantly for a few minutes before Rachel walked up the stairs to Quinn’s room, her heart thumping in her chest the entire way. She paused in front of the door and took a deep breath before she knocked.

“Come in,” Quinn called.

Rachel took another deep breath and opened the door. “Hi,” she said quietly.

Quinn’s eyes widened. “ _Hi_ ,” she said softly, getting up from the bed. She took a few steps toward Rachel but then stopped. “I didn’t think you’d come over…”

Rachel wrung her hands together nervously, unable to look Quinn in the eye. She stared down at the ground. “Look, about yesterday…you didn’t do anything wrong. It was all me. I was a total freak and I just took it out on you. I take full responsibility, and I’m really sorry.” She looked up and gave Quinn a frail smile. “I’m going to go, I’ll…give you some time to think or…whatever.”

“Rach, wait.” Quinn said, stepping toward Rachel. “I don’t…I don’t care about what happened last night. I just need to know. Did I do something wrong? What did I do? Because you were just…you were gone. You were _scared_ of me.”

Rachel made a face and rubbed her cheek in frustration. “I wasn’t scared of you!” she exclaimed, “God, never! It’s just…I kind of checked out,” she admitted. “I do that sometimes, I guess.”

Quinn bit her lip. “I don’t understand,” she said quietly.

Rachel took a few steps back. “I just…” she faltered. “It’s just...when I was dating Cin and J…I don’t know, I didn’t always feel like doing it, but they wanted to, so it just seemed easier to kind of…check out. But I didn’t mean to do that with you.”

“Wait, you didn’t want to?” Quinn asked, taking a few steps closer. “They forced you? They made--”

“No one made me do anything!” Rachel refuted hotly. “I just didn’t say ‘no.’ And I guess yesterday…I mean…I wanted to, but I guess maybe I also didn’t want to and I kind of checked out. But I didn’t mean to like…I didn’t mean for yesterday to happen.”

Quinn looked completely freaked out and Rachel but her lower lip, fidgeting under the way Quinn looked at her.

“Okay,” Rachel said, looking down at her shoes. “So I’m going to go. I’ll give you some space.”

Quinn reached for her and caught Rachel by one of her elbows. “I would _never_ force you into anything. Never,” she added emphatically.

Rachel pulled away. “I told you,” she said crossly. “No one forced me. I was just too much of a coward to say no.” Rachel crossed her arms in front of herself. “And sometimes it was just easier to kind of lay there and check out.”

Quinn looked even more fearful. “Have I ever made you feel forced into it?” she asked quietly.

“ _No_ ,” Rachel said emphatically. “I don’t know what happened yesterday, okay? It’s just… I mean, I don’t know what happened. I’m just really sorry, and can we just _drop_ this because I’m _sorry_ and I don’t know what else I’m supposed to say here, Quinn.”

“I’m not asking you to apologize!” Quinn exclaimed. “But Jesus Christ, Rachel. You basically just told me that I almost raped you last night and--”

“ _What_?!” Rachel shrieked. “It wasn’t anything like that! I just---” Rachel took a shaky breath. “ _You_ never forced me into anything. _Ever_. That’s what makes you different. I could _never_ say ‘no’ even when I wanted to. And fuck, okay, yes, sometimes I did feel forced. But I never said no, so who the _fuck_ am I supposed to blame for that? Sometimes it was just easier to lay there, stare up at the ceiling and I’d blank out and nothing would hurt and I didn’t feel like someone’s _toilet_ for once, okay? And I don’t know what happened last night because it’s _never_ like that with you. But you…it was different last night, it was never like that between us before and I freaked out and I’m _sorry_ okay? I ruined everything and I’ll do _anything_. I swear.” Rachel moved closer to Quinn. “Whatever you want,” she pleaded, and God, she felt so pathetic, and she knew this is exactly what would happen. She’d fall in love and get so stupid pathetic desperate. “I get if you want to break up, I don’t blame you. But I’ll _prove_ to you-- you can do _whatever_ you want to me and it’ll be _fine_ \--”

Rachel began unbuttoning her shirt and Quinn’s eyes widened in horror.

“Stop it!” Quinn cried. She flung her hands out to still Rachel’s hands “God, Rachel,” she breathed “I’d never force you. I’d never want you to do something you don’t want to. That’s not why I’m with you.”

“I made a mistake yesterday, but I promise--”

“You didn’t do anything wrong!” Quinn exclaimed. “God,” she breathed. “I can’t…I can’t even…what did I do to you last night?” she asked.

“You didn’t do anything wrong! It was _normal_. I just… I freaked out.”

“Well, what did _they_ do when that happened? Because Rachel, I was so scared. I was going to call an ambulance. I thought you were having an aneurysm or something. I mean, your face just got _so_ white, and you weren’t moving, you weren’t even blinking!”

Rachel shrugged. “I guess they never noticed,” she said flatly. “Look, can we just _drop_ this? I mean, this is embarrassing enough.”

“No, we can’t just _drop_ this!”

“Last night was a fluke, I promise,” Rachel pleaded. “You just…you don’t understand.”

“So help me understand, Rachel! Because from where I’m standing, you freaked out because of _me_ , that I did something to scare the shit out of _you_.” She paused. “I think you might have had a panic attack.”

Rachel snorted. “It was not a panic attack,” she scoffed. She sighed and took a few steps forward. “Quinn,” she said softly. “Everything between us has been _glacial_ and I think it’s been good for both of us, right?”

“Yeah,” Quinn agreed.

“It wasn’t always like that for me,” Rachel said. “My first time with Cindy, we were making out in my bed and suddenly my clothes were coming off and just…I wasn’t ready. She didn’t even _ask_ me. She _never_ asked me. And it was just so fast. And it was the same with J. We were at Westin Point looking down at the city, and we got into his backseat and he just…he started taking off my clothes and then he was on top of me and it just…he didn’t _ask_ me. They both just assumed. It was _never_ like that with you, okay? I promise you, last night, it was a fluke. If it happens again, we can talk about it then. But I don’t want to keep talking about this. It’s _humiliating_ for me.”

Quinn swallowed hard. “That’s why you were always taking things so slow with me,” she said quietly. “I mean, it took you _forever_ just to kiss me. And I really…I really appreciated that you weren’t ready to have sex either, because I _definitely_ wasn’t ready. But there was more to it than that, wasn’t there?”

Rachel gave her a grim, sad smile. “It’s the worst feeling in the world to feel like someone’s toilet. I just wanted to make sure you were sure, that you felt like you could say ‘no,’ if you wanted to. I wasn’t always good to you, but I wanted to be better than _that_.”

Quinn swallowed hard. “You can always say ‘no,’ to me, Rach.”

“I know.”

\--

They worked out a system after that. It wasn’t particularly sexy because it mainly involved verbally asking for permission and periodically asking “is this okay? Are you sure?” but soon it evolved to non-verbal signals, which, again, weren’t particularly sexy because it involved discussing it ahead of time and saying things like, “if I pull your hair, it means I’m asking you for permission,” but soon enough it evolved to completely non-verbal cues that didn’t involve discussing what those things meant in advance. They soon recognized the way their eyes looked when they wanted it, the way they breathed and moaned and they became less timid to touch one another. And then one day, they realized the fear was gone.

They’d been making out on Rachel’s bed and she touched Quinn between her legs, but over her jeans and she realized that Quinn was so wet, that she could feel Quinn through her jeans. And Quinn stared up at her, eyes even darker than usual.

Rachel was already unbuttoning Quinn’s jeans when the blonde told her “take my pants off” in a low growl that made Rachel’s insides twitch.

\--

Things got even easier after that, and it really wasn’t so much about the sex as it was that they _finally_ got everything out on the table. Rachel couldn’t remember a time in her life she’d been happier and she was even more gratified because _Quinn_ looked happy, too.  
\--

There was a mini flare up when there was an unofficial New Directions versus Vocal Adrenaline throwdown held at McKinley.

Rachel felt her stomach ache at the prospect of it, but the two choir directors laid down the challenge to each other, so she had no choice. She caught a glimpse of that girl, Daisy, the one that Quinn derisively referred to as “cartoon looking.” Daisy winked, smiled and waved at her and Rachel felt herself blush. She unconsciously ducked her head and then peeked back up at Daisy who was still looking at her. Daisy gave her a crooked smile and Rachel felt herself smile unconsciously back.

Quinn elbowed Rachel in the ribs and gave the brunette a death glare. “So sorry that _I_ didn’t dress like Betty Boob.”

“Betty Boop.”

“I _know_.”

Quinn was still ranting when Rachel caught sight of her former boyfriend. She swallowed hard and stared at him. He stared back and waved at her. She gave him a stilted smile.

“You okay?” Quinn asked quietly.

Rachel glanced at her. The blonde looked like she wanted to yell, but then thought better of it, which Rachel appreciated. Quinn had that look on her face when the blonde was two seconds away from blowing up at her and then reined it in.

“Yeah,” Rachel said,

Things were okay until after the competition was over. Rachel was walking to the bathroom when she felt herself grabbed and pulled into an empty classroom. She came face to face with her former boyfriend. His hand was still wrapped around her wrist and she yanked it away.

“J, what the _hell_?”

“I missed you,” he explained simply. “I just wanted a chance to talk to you alone.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m seeing someone and it’s serious. I _can’t_ be with you right now.”

“There is no way you’re going to convince me that they’re more important to you than I am,” he said softly. “Not after everything. You and me, we’re practically made for each other.”

“J,” Rachel sighed. “ _Fuck_. Don’t do this, okay? I’m seeing someone and it’s serious and _really_ important.”

He brushed some hair out of her face. “Brown Eyes,” he said softly. “I’ve missed you. We could start over, you and me. I mean, we’re _both_ going to Julliard in the Fall. It only makes sense. We aren’t going to be some high school relationship that ends by Thanksgiving of freshman year. We’re going to be _together_. It makes sense. We make sense. Way more than you and _anyone_ else in this hellhole of a town.”

She stared up at him and released a soft sigh. None of this was new. This was the stuff they’d always planned on back when they were together.

“It was good between us,” he said.

“Yeah,” Rachel breathed.

He moved in to kiss her.

Rachel put her hand on his chest and pushed. “Don’t,” she said quietly. “Don’t. I told you. I’m with someone.”

“Brown Eyes, whoever it is, they don’t love you like I love you.”

“Maybe not, but…”

He interrupted her by brushing his lips against hers.

“Don’t!” Rachel exclaimed. She pushed him away.

He reached out and grabbed her by the wrist. “Just talk to me! Who the _hell_ could you have found in this town? Everyone here is a fucking Lima Loser!”

“Not everyone!” Rachel said, trying to yank her hand away. “ _Ow_ ,” she said. “Will you let go?!” she demanded.

He let go. “Come here,” he said softly. But instead of letting her come to him, he inched closer to her. He lowered his head, his lips close to hers.

“ _No_ ,” Rachel said firmly. “No. Stop it. I told you, _don’t_. I’m seeing someone and I am _not_ going to keep screwing it up. So stop it!” She glared at him and grabbed the door to leave. She threw it open and saw her extremely angry girlfriend.

Fuck.

“It’s not what you think!” Rachel said.

Quinn just looked at her. Quinn then looked at him and with a shriek leaped toward him. Quinn’s body was practically parallel to the ground as she tackled him to the ground, scratching at his face and pulling at his hair.

“Quinn! I didn’t do anything with him!”

“I know!” Quinn shouted, slapping at his head and face

Rachel wrapped her arms around Quinn’s waist and pulled. She yanked Quinn off him. Quinn was straddling his prone body and hitting him.

“You better go,” Rachel told him.

He scrambled away. “Good luck,” he said. “I don’t think she’s as forgiving as you are.”

Once they were alone, Rachel shut the door to the classroom and looked at Quinn almost fearfully. “I didn’t do anything.”

“I know. I saw him grab you, so I followed you. I heard everything.”

Rachel blinked. “Then why did you tackle him to the ground?”

“I don’t know!” Quinn exclaimed in a huff. “It just kind of happened!” She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I don’t like the way he talked to you.”

“You shouldn’t have attacked him, even though it was extremely girly and not even remotely intimidating.”

“Well, he got out of here pretty fast for someone who wasn’t intimidated!”

“Santana would have punched him.”

“Santana has anger management classes in her future.”

Rachel was amused. It was clear Quinn wasn’t angry with her, and didn’t think she did something inappropriate with him, so now she was amused at the way Quinn was Cat Fight Status, all hair pulling, scratching and slapping. But still, she didn’t think Quinn should have attacked him.

“It’s wrong for you to have attacked him,” Rachel said.

Quinn scowled. “Why are you being protective of him?”

“I’m not,” Rachel said. “I just don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“Well, it just kind of happened,” Quinn huffed. “What, are you like, mad at me over this or something, because if anyone should be mad, it should be me and--”

Rachel put her fingers over Quinn’s mouth. “I’m not mad,” she said with a crooked grin. She stood up on tip toe and licked her tongue across Quinn’s collar bone. “It was…hot.”

Quinn released a strangled breath when she felt Rachel’s fingers slip under her skirt. “ _Oh_.”

\--  
Rachel got sick right before finals exams that year. Santana sniffed derisively, “who gets sick in the summer? My grandmother says that not even dogs get colds in the summer.”

But Rachel was legitimately sick—missing school and having to go to the doctor and everything.

She was half asleep, and half awake one day when she felt her bed sink slightly and she cocked open one eye to see Quinn sitting next to her.

“Hi,” Quinn said softly, she brushed some of Rachel’s hair out of her face. “Your dad let me in.”

Rachel grinned at her. “Hi.”

Quinn held up a worn out stuffed penguin. “Barry Pelican wanted to say hi to you. He wants you to feel better, too.”

Rachel grinned. “You know I still think it’s weird that you named your stuffed penguin ‘pelican.’”

“His name is _Barry_ Pelican,” Quinn said, almost whining. “Rachel, I told you, his first name is Barry, his last name is Pelican.”

“I know, honey,” Rachel said, reaching for Quinn and then thinking better of it because she didn’t want to get Quinn sick, too. “Maybe I should have said ‘cute,’ because that’s what I really think.”

Quinn snorted. “You’re being patronizing, but I’ll allow it because you’re sick.”

Rachel rubbed at her eyes and then sighed. “I’ve missed you,” she said, shutting her eyes because they were sore and she just wanted to rest.

Quinn swallowed hard. “I’ve missed you, too,” she said, swallowing back the lump that suddenly rose in her throat. She reached out to touch Rachel’s forehead. “You’re still so warm,” she said worriedly. “You’ve already missed a week of school.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Rachel said peeking her eyes open. “I’ll be back soon.” She rolled from her stomach onto her back. She sighed contentedly as Quinn stroked her hair and closed her eyes again. “That feels good.”

“Good.”

Rachel sat up. “I must look so gross right now,” she said with a chuckle.

“You’re beautiful, Quinn assured.

Rachel told herself it must be love because she knew she was looking a little rough. This flu had knocked her on her ass for eight full days and she was _not_ looking good. At first she’d been self-conscious about Quinn seeing her when was _so_ not looking well, but then she thought that Quinn wouldn’t care, and the blonde hadn’t. And Rachel felt that if Quinn could still find her attractive when she looked like _this_ , it must be love.

“I have something for you,” Rachel said with a tiny smile. She blushed. “I know you will think that I’m a nerd, but just remember I had a lot of time on my hands and not very much to occupy myself.”

Quinn raised an eyebrow. “Did you _make_ me something?”

Rachel blushed even deeper. “I…” she trailed off and opened her nightstand drawer and pulled out a leather bound album. She shoved it into Quinn’s hands. “I made you a scrapbook,” she declared, sounding anguished and threw herself face down on the bed and buried her face into the pillow. She was so embarrassed for herself.

Quinn laughed and patted Rachel’s back. “You made me a _scrapbook_?!” she asked incredulously, breaking off into giggles. “Oh my God, what are you? 50?”

Rachel groaned and clutched her sheets. “I was _bored_ ,” she said. “I didn’t have anything else to do except sleep and do homework.”

Quinn laughed and pulled Rachel up. “Come on. Show it off to me.”

Rachel was still beet-red. “It’s a scrapbook of us,” she mumbled. She palmed the side of her neck, staring down at her lap.

Quinn opened it and found a close-up of she and Rachel at Sectionals during their sophomore year. She raised an eyebrow.

“That was before you and me were…” Rachel trailed off. “You and me.”

Quinn smiled. “I remembered.”

The more Quinn flipped through the pages, however, the less inclined she was to make fun. She swallowed hard as their relationship was meticulously documented-- business cards from restaurants where they’d gone on dates, napkins with her sketches on them, ticket stubs from movies and concerts, programs from various Glee competitions, free postcards from coffee houses they’d frequented, photographs, dried flowers, Post-its they’d left for each other-- everything was a reminder that stirred a very acute memory with Rachel.

“You seriously kept all this stuff?” Quinn asked, swallowing hard.

Rachel blushed. “I could…I couldn’t just throw it all away. And I…” she cleared her. “I wanted to remember.”

Quinn shut the book and clutched it close to her chest. “You’re such a dork,” she breathed. “But I _love_ it.”

Rachel smiled crookedly. “Do you really?”

Quinn nodded emphatically. “So I guess you’re really into me, huh?” she asked with a grin.

Rachel rolled her eyes. “Don’t get so egotistical.” She pushed Quinn away.

Quinn reached for her. “No, seriously,” she said softly. “You’re into me, right?” she asked quietly. “You aren’t…you know, playing a role or playing along? You’re really into me?”

Rachel looked at her. “How long have we been doing this for?”

“A while,” Quinn said with a tiny smile.

Rachel chuckled. “Yeah,” she agreed affectionately. “A _while_ ,” she echoed. “A while is all it takes to fall in love, right?”

Quinn smiled. “Yeah.”

They lapsed into silence and then Quinn spoke again.

“I _really_ need you answer the question though,” she said, blushing furiously. “I really need to hear you say it.”

Rachel smiled. “I’m into you,” she said softly, cheeks turning pink. She reached for the scrapbook and gently pulled it out of Quinn’s hands and opened it. She grabbed a pen from off her night stand. “I, Rachel Berry,” she said as she wrote. “Do solemnly concede that I am very fond of Quinn Fabray.”

“Wait a minute,” Quinn demanded. “ _Concede_? _Fond_ You’re _conceding_ that you’re _fond_ me?!”

Rachel grinned. “Well, it did happen very grudgingly.”

“It happened grudgingly for me, too! Even more for me than for you! I can’t believe you’d write that and--”

“Quinn,” Rachel said with a chuckle. She held up the book so that the page she’d written on faced Quinn. “Relax.”

Quinn narrowed her eyes but moved in closer and then she read:

‘Q,

I’m in love with you. Really.

-R’

Quinn felt tears prick her eyes, but she swatted at Rachel’s knee instead. “You deceived me.”

“I think ‘trick,’ is the more appropriate terminology here,” Rachel complained, rubbing her knee.

Quinn gave Rachel a look, but reached for the book and the pen.

She wrote in it and then she held it up to show it to Rachel.

R,

‘I’m in love with you, too.’

-Q

When Rachel was little, she totally loved fairy tales and princesses and all that kind of stuff. This would come as a shock to _no one_ who knew her. She grew up thinking there would be a Prince Charming in her life, one day. And then one day, she realized that she might have a Princess Charming. But the more she dated, the more she felt that all that was truly relegated to the world of fairy tale, that it did not exist. That relationships were really all about losing her self-respect and doing things she didn’t want and just giving up pieces of herself just to get through the night. She started dating Quinn and she became convinced that it would be the same way with Quinn, too.

But Quinn was different.

Rachel stared hard at Quinn’s handwritten admission of love. “Enter Prince Charming,” she breathed.

Quinn looked at her quizzically. “What?” she asked. “Are you delirious?”

Rachel smiled at her. “No,” she said quietly. “Just thinking out loud.” She palmed Quinn’s cheek and her smiled deepened when Quinn smiled shyly at her. Her fingers grazed down Quinn’s cheek. “We’re just getting started.”

Quinn smiled. “Yeah.”

The End.


End file.
